Time, Like a River
by Penguin
Summary: On the shore he stops and turns his face up to the moon. There is only one thing to do.  This is Sai's story. Genfic, no pairing, but if you squint you can see traces of Hikaru/Akira and Sai/Ogata.


**Disclaimer: **The Hikaru no Go characters don't belong to me, however much I'd like them to, but to Yumi Hotta and Takeshi Obata. I just borrow them for my own amusement – and hopefully yours. I'm not making any money from this, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Author's Notes: **This is a Sai genfic written for Round 10 of Blind Go over at LiveJournal. Thanks and love to my beta readers, **Ontogenesis** and **Amariel**!

TIME, LIKE A RIVER

I

The city glitters behind him as he leaves. He follows the dark road away from the lights and voices; watches liquid moonlight on the water. The shame, the disgrace, the unjust accusations – he wears them like a heavy cloak he can't throw off. No rain, no stream, however clear, can ever wash the dirt away.

On the shore he stops and turns his face up to the moon. There is only one thing to do.

The water calls to him. His mind is set but his body will want to hold on to life, it will protest as the water takes it. Rocks will help him sink; rocks will make his fear irrelevant.

He stands on the shore thinking about rocks and stones, stones of another kind, made of bone or glass. When he imagines the sound they make against wood, he closes his eyes. There's a white stone hidden in his fist; the one thing he took from the palace as he left.

The stone is still in his hand as he wades out into the water and gives himself up to it. It's cold on his skin, burning in is lungs. In the darkness and the panic, when his heart and feet kick to get him back to the surface, the stone slips from his fingers. He sees it as it sinks, one last glimpse of dying light, and the heavy thunder in his ears is replaced by silence.

Eons of time pass by, or only seconds. There is no knowing.

But when everything is still and he is beyond the world, he finds he still has some form of consciousness. He can't see his body, or anything else – there is only light, and in his ears is a faint, rushing sound like wind or distant waves.

He still knows who he is.

_I am Fujiwara no Sai, and I lived to play go, only to play go._

He hadn't thought time would exist in the afterlife, not as it does for the living – but if there is no time where he is, then why does it feel like he is _waiting_?

II

Sai waits, surrounded by bright mist and whispering sounds, not knowing how much time passes, if it passes, or what will happen, if anything will. He waits because it's all he can do, until the world takes shape around him once more and he becomes aware of a distinct sound: the sound of rain.

And then there is the click of go stones on a board, and a boy is playing.

Torajirou is a delightful child, intelligent and well behaved. He accepts Sai's invasive presence with very few questions and only an initial touch of fear. It takes longer for Sai to grasp the situation and accept the fact that he is dead, invisible, inaudible to anyone but Torajirou.

Already a strong player, the boy sees Sai's strength and steps aside to let Sai play all his games. Together they will reach new heights.

It's strange, stepping back into the world after so many centuries have passed. So much has changed, but go is still go and not much altered, and sunlight and seasons and trees are the same. Mingling with the strange, new sounds are familiar ones, of human voices, footsteps, waves – and stones on wood.

Sai's desire to play the Hand of God is unchanged. Perhaps, he thinks, this is God granting him his wish.

Torajirou helps him find the way.

They play hundreds of games, thousands, and yet the hunger remains.

III

The night Honinbou Shuusaku succumbs to disease, a torrential rain falls. The flame of his human soul flickers and dies, and around Sai the world fades. He can still sense Torajirou, distantly: free, happy, relieved of pain.

"Thank you," he whispers.

The sound of rain recedes, and once again Sai is waiting. There is no bright mist, but darkness, nothingness. Sometimes a feeble light returns, vague shapes and faint voices, players at a board who don't react when he tries to catch their attention.

Inhabiting a physical object – the board Torajirou used for his last game – makes him feel trapped. He preferred the mist.

He makes the occasional, half-hearted effort to escape although he knows it's futile. He tries to make his presence known and someone must have caught a glimpse of him, for there's a persistent rumour of a ghost with a tall hat rising from the board to haunt the players. But no one hears Sai's voice, and he waits in the dark, impatiently.

IV

When the darkness around Sai lifts there is the sound of rain on the roof, and yet again it's a child who finally hears his voice.

Only a century has passed, but it's a different world.

At first, Sai begs God to find him another human vessel, but God is silent. The boy is not.

Perhaps, Sai thinks after some months in these strange times, it's no wonder Hikaru is loud. His world is so full of _noise_, so many people crammed together in one place.

Shindou Hikaru, utterly unlike Torajirou in every way, wants to play his own games.

After the first, violent disappointment, Sai calms down and tries to reason. _Naturally, this will be different_, he tells himself; _it cannot be the same way twice._ God will want him to learn, so instead of selfishly playing all the games like he did with Torajirou, he will have to act as a teacher.

Disappointment still stings.

But as rude and careless as Hikaru may be, he is also in possession of a kind heart and a dormant, prodigious talent for go, and Sai begins to finds small isles of beauty and stillness in the wild, clamouring sea of noise. Sakura, snow, the Room of Deep Contemplation.

Hikaru loves to surprise Sai; Sai likes to hear Hikaru laugh.

Even in these strange times, go has stayed the same, and still attracts intriguing players. The Meijin, clear, sharp, powerful; closest to the Hand of God. His son, so different from Hikaru and still destined to shape his life.

Sai envies Hikaru that – finding a rival who measures up to him. _Rival, and more_, Sai thinks, seeing the way their eyes seek the other's face, always.

Then there is Ogata. Touya Meijin is closer to Sai in skill and experience but does not have Ogata's hunger. Ogata is still young, still climbing. Passionate.

When Sai gets to play an equal game with the Meijin at last, it's too late. The world has rushed past them, reaching for the future – the future that lies with Hikaru.

And when Sai finally plays Ogata in a dark hotel room, everything is wrong. Hikaru is sleepy, Ogata is drunk, Sai is weak and tired. The game takes on a strange, wistful beauty, the ghost of something that never happened.

Time is flowing again, flowing like a river.

V

On the way back to Tokyo, the landscape flashes past the train window as Hikaru sleeps and Sai sits staring at his own fading hands.

The river is a waterfall inside him. All he can hear is the rush of it.

At the board in Hikaru's room, he sees everything with startling clarity: the long chain of people, linking the past and the future.

_Torajirou existed for me and I for you, Hikaru. You will bring beauty into many people's lives, but ultimately you will exist for Akira. I am grateful to have seen you blossom before me like a young tree._

Sai would have liked to live for another thousand years, play go and watch the resilience of human nature in a changing world, but the rush of time is loud in his ears and God has already allowed him more than his share.

He closes his eyes as the river takes him. Hikaru, asleep with his chin in his hand, does not notice.


End file.
